


call you by name

by LinneaKou



Series: strange beasts (Hopeless Wanderer) [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Anxiety, Depression, Dogs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Realism, Touch-Starved, Wishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 00:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13201380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinneaKou/pseuds/LinneaKou
Summary: Drunk, depressed, and lonely, Viktor Nikiforov makes a wish that has unforeseen consequences for himself and many people around him.(an alternate take on the premise oflearn to love the skies I'm under)





	call you by name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilithiumwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithiumwords/gifts), [DontTrustLoserCandy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontTrustLoserCandy/gifts), [SqueezeBabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SqueezeBabe/gifts).



> MERRY VIKMAS! (Yes, I know I'm late. I got super sick over the holidays, thanks for your patience while I recovered!)
> 
> This fic is a literal reversal of _learn to love the skies I'm under_ , as in "what if Viktor Nikiforov was the one turned into a dog?" and I hope you all enjoy this exploration of the concept! It was suggested by Ren, Katsu, and SqueezeBabe while we were all spitballing on the BBOI server some time ago! (I still have receipts! I do!!) and ever since that moment, my life has not known peace.
> 
> Thank you to the BBOI and Bedtime Stories discords for your cheerleading and support while writing this (and crying. A lot. Listen. LISTEN.)
> 
> Special HUGE thanks to Gab and Liz for the beta work! (Liz, you can stop texting me now.)

Viktor Nikiforov is on top of the figure-skating world.

Seriously, sponsors up to his neck, enough gold medals to sink a boat, nearly fifteen years of competing, what could he possibly complain about?

“Why are you complaining?” Chris asks when he joins Viktor by the buffet during the Sochi GPF banquet.

“I haven’t said anything,” Viktor mutters, hiding in his glass of champagne.

“Maybe not with your _words_ , but your face says a lot.” Chris waggles his eyebrows. “You look like a miserable wreck. Cheer up, you’re the gold medalist.”

Viktor groans and downs his flute in one go.

Chris eyes him as he drops off the empty flute on a passing waiter’s platter and grabs another one. “You are the only person I know who could be unhappy about winning the Grand Prix Final,” he finally says as Viktor takes another generous gulp of champagne. “Good grief, Viktor.”

Viktor looks out at crowd of the same people he sees every year, some of them he will be seeing monthly until at the end of the season. There’s Yura, moping by Yakov; Mila is off chatting with one of the girls from Juniors, who will be making her Senior debut very soon; Georgi isn’t here, as he didn’t make it into the finals this year; and, well, Viktor doesn’t really know any of the pairs or ice dancer teams. There are a few skaters he _does_ know - Cao Bin, the Crispino twins, and Chris of course - but he doesn’t really feel like interacting with the others. Usually he’s up for goofing around with Chris and staving off boredom, but even that prospect is unattractive tonight.

Chris looks at him, real concern maring his graceful brow. “Viktor, in all seriousness, are you all right?”

Viktor stares into the bubbles rising in his glass and ponders it. Is he? Is something wrong with him? He ought to be celebrating; he’s been dominating Men’s Singles for years now and save for a few injury scares he’s not planning on slowing down.

God willing, if his body doesn’t give out then he might be doing this _forever_.

Something bitter rises in his throat at that thought, and he chases it back down with another gulp of liquor. “Couldn’t be better,” he says, keeping his face as blank as he possibly can.

Chris clearly doesn’t believe him, but then a shout goes up on the other side of the banquet hall. “What is your little ice tiger getting himself into?”

 _What?_ Viktor frowns and looks up to see Yuri struggling to rip off his suit jacket. Another person - a moderately tall man of Asian descent whom Viktor is able to identify as the Japanese skater who had placed sixth this year - has already managed to shrug off his own jacket, and is moving with a loose, easy grace that makes Viktor’s mouth water.

“Ah, little Yuuri Katsuki,” Chris says, eyebrows raised. “I’ve skated against him before in the series, he’s pretty uptight from what I remember.”

“Doesn’t seem so uptight now,” Viktor points out, something like excitement rising in his chest. He’s _interested_ , how fun!

“Are they… _mon dieu_ , this I’ve _got_ to see.” Chris sidles away, weaving through the crowd, and Viktor abandons his glass to follow. His heart is pounding in his chest as people part around him, revealing Yuri bellowing insults at the unfazed Japanese man.

“You’re such a fucking _disgrace_ ,” Yuri shouts, and shrugs off Mila’s attempt to calm him down. “Go back to the shithole you crawled out of!”

“I don’ feel like it,” Katsuki slurs, and Viktor spies an actual entire _bottle_ of champagne clutched in his hand. “B’sides, I gott’a flight fer tomorro’. Yerrrrrr _stuck_ w’me.” He takes a swig, and Viktor’s jaw drops.

Yuri goes scarlet.

“Since _yerrrrrr_ such hot sshhhit,” Katsuki brandishes the bottle at Yuri, who scurries backwards a few steps. “I’m _callin’ you out_ , brat.”

“Dance-off!” one of the Ladies Singles finalists yells, whooping, and Katsuki actually tilts his chin up in challenge.

Yuri looks ready to breathe fire. “You’re _on,_ has-been!” he shouts, jerking his tie loose.

“This is _really_ not a good idea,” Mila tries to say, shooting glances at the sponsors, but the crowd of skaters surrounding the dance floor begins to stomp and clap in unison. Yuri is hopping around, loosening his arms up, and Katsuki is swaying on his feet but stays remarkably upright. Viktor watches, eyes wide, as Katsuki launches into a sloppy but elaborate breakdancing set that Yuri frantically tries to mimic.

It’s the most beautiful display Viktor has ever seen, and he’s been watching a lot of Richard Attenborough nature documentaries lately. Yuuri Katsuki could give all of the tropical birds in _Planet Earth_ a run for their money, if he’d had feathers of his own.

Yuri has to give up after a few minutes of furious dancing, and he slinks off to lick his wounds as Katsuki is declared the winner and cheers with his audience, Viktor among them.

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Sara Crispino says, but then Katsuki’s shirt comes off and Viktor has a Gay Moment.

 _Oh no,_ Viktor thinks delightedly. _I want to lick it._ He hasn’t had a Gay Moment in a loooooong time, which is depressing. But _hello sex drive_ , his thirst has returned. Viktor had thought it had died months ago. Good to know his dick still works on a theoretical level.

And then Katsuki’s pants are getting thrown on the ground behind him, and Katsuki launches himself at a convenient pole in the center of the dance floor.

 _Oh God, he can pole dance._ The thirst is real.

Chris cheers and strips to Viktor’s left, and then he’s joining Katsuki on the pole, twisting elegantly. Viktor spares a moment to mourn the fact that Chris’s boyfriend isn’t here to see.

At some point, an ISU official shows up to get both skaters off the pole, and Katsuki is half-dressed, tie around his head, when he suddenly throws his arms around Viktor and adorably slurs, “Be my coach, _Biktoruuuu~_!”

Viktor’s heart stops and he almost says _yes. Okay. I’ll do it._

He doesn’t; instead, he dances with this adorable mess of a skater all night until Katsuki’s coach drags him off to bed. Viktor merrily waves goodbye, lets him go, and that’s his first mistake.

-

By the time Worlds rolls around, there are whisperings.

_Katsuki’s retiring._

Viktor ignores it all. It’s just hearsay. Katsuki’s just having a bad year. He’ll get over this slump and come back next year. Right?

But he can’t get a read online, because Katsuki is pretty much invisible, and no one close to him is talking.

“You’re not still hung up on Yuuri, are you?” Chris asks him at practice for the SP. “He was drunk in Sochi, Viktor. He didn’t mean any of what he said.”

And that just makes it worse.

Viktor wonders if there could be anyone out there who might be interested in him, not _Viktor Nikiforov, four-soon-to-be-five-time World Champion_. He sees that Viktor in the mirror, with his carefully gelled hair and his splendid, princely costume, and something like loathing flares in his chest.

 _Of course there’s nothing there,_ he thinks, his face clouding in contempt that he has nowhere to point but inward. _Nothing happened in Sochi. Why did I even bother thinking otherwise?_

_There’s nothing there._

_There’s nothing._

-

He skates a perfect short, and then a perfect free skate. It all feels fake. He’s like a plastic doll, painted and cheap, mechanically dancing for their entertainment, but they still give him the gold. _Viktor Nikiforov, five-time World Champion._ The words leave a sour taste in his mouth.

What’s another gold medal? It’s just a thing, a weighted chain around his neck. The colors are bleeding out from the world. What is there to do after the gala and the banquet tonight? Viktor will go home to St. Petersburg, go back to training with Yakov and the others. He’ll go home to Makkachin, the only one waiting for _him_. Not _Viktor Nikiforov, five-time World Champion_.

He leaves the banquet as early as possible, and spends the rest of the night watching cute dog videos on YouTube and feeling the barest of emotion for them. He’s not sure if he likes how that feels.

Once back in St. Petersburg, his life settles into monotony. Wake up, go to the rink, start working on routines, work with Yakov, go home, eat, shower, sleep. Rinse and repeat.

One night, a few days after arriving home again, he ends up going out. He can’t handle another night of just laying in bed, stewing in his negativity. Tomorrow is his off day, but he thinks he’ll go insane before it actually arrives.

He ends up in a bar, a ways away from his apartment, and convinces the bartender to open a tab. She obliges him, and he keeps shoving money at her, and he’s a few drinks in before the world starts feeling a little more distant, a little less heavy.

It’s… good. It’s very nice, and floaty, and he’s feeling looser in his skin and honestly, maybe he should just be drunk all the time.

“It’s not normal, is it,” he asks the bartender, who smiles indulgently at him. “Is it normal? To hate being awake and not being able to stop?”

“Stop what?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Living,” Viktor sighs. “Not like the opposite of being dead, you know? But… existing.”

“I think you’ve had enough,” the bartender tells him, but he clutches onto his glass.

“Don’t make me go back,” he begs, and he isn’t even ashamed of the tears squeezing out of his eyes. “Don’t make me go back to _them_.” He isn’t even sure of who _they_ are but he knows he can’t face them. He _can’t_.

“You can stay until the bar closes,” the bartender reassures him, before moving to serve another patron.

Viktor closes his eyes and revels in the sensation of being distant from the world around him. The bar isn’t loud, the patrons are mostly keeping to themselves, but there’s something _off_ about this place. The ambiance is not like any other bar he’s ever been in… he feels like he’s intruding on something.

“Should I even be here?” he asks, craning his neck to look at the bartender, but he forgets to lift his head off the bar so the entire movement is awkward and a tad bit painful.

“You can come and go as you’d like,” the bartender says. She’s looking at him, contemplating him. “People only find their way in here if they really need to.”

“Huh.” Viktor blinks slowly. “Did I need this?”

“Did you?” the bartender asks, and Viktor is too drunk to be thinking in circles.

“Another?” he says instead, and the bartender purses her lips and looks down at him.

“I think you need something else,” she says, and reaches into her pocket.

“But I want vodka,” Viktor whines, until the bartender sets a round coin down on the bar in front of him. It’s small and shiny, perfectly clean, an almost platinum color, with a square hole punched in the middle.

“What is this?” Viktor asks, poking it. “I’m paying you, yes?”

“That’s a wish,” the bartender answers. She pats him on the head, and he’s too drunk to even feel belittled. “Think about what you want most in the world, and then ask for it. But be careful, you’re very likely to get it.”

What he wants most in the world?

Viktor picks up the coin and blinks up at her. “Why?”

She shrugs. “I think you need it.”

-

Viktor doesn’t even remember settling his tab and leaving the bar. He certainly doesn’t remember getting to this street.

_...what you want most in the world…_

What he wants the most is to _not_ be Viktor Nikiforov anymore. But who else could he be?

 _I want to be loved,_ he thinks longingly. _Not adored. Not admired. I want to be beloved._

But who could love _him_? They all only love _Viktor Nikiforov, five-time World Champion._ A handsome smile and a pair of skates. That’s all he is.

He thinks of Makkachin, his sweet poodle, and how easy it is to love her. Everyone loves Makkachin, even little Yura does (though he would never admit it.)

Dogs have it so easy. They just have to be cute and everyone immediately falls in love with them.

He thinks of Yuuri Katsuki’s shining eyes, the color of honey in the light, and wonders what kind of a person could be loved by the owner of those eyes.

He turns the coin over in his hand.

_I want…_

-

He wakes up.

 _Whoa_ , he thinks blearily. _I didn’t get_ that _drunk, did I?_

His head is pounding, and he feels… odd. Something’s off. He grunts and tries to rub his face, but…

 _Wait_.

He stares at his hand. Which is not a hand. It’s still his, it’s still connected to him, but, it’s not a hand.

_Paw._

He’s stunned, too stunned to get his brain past the fact that his hand is now a paw, and when he suddenly sneezes he’s taken by surprise.

Something flops on his head, and his face feels funny, too. In fact, if he looks down…

_That’s not my nose._

He turns and looks down at himself, and it feels like his heart has stopped.

He is very intimately familiar with what poodle hair looks like, seeing that he often falls asleep with his face buried in it, so it’s a bit of a shock to see it all over him, a soft curly silvery gray just a few shades darker than his actual hair. Also, that’s a tail.

The tail moves, and it’s _definitely_ connected to him. He can feel it curling and shifting, and the sensation travels up his spine as it moves.

Viktor doesn’t know what to think.

 _This is a dream,_ he thinks, and shifts. _This isn’t real, I’m not actually a dog._ He lays his head back down on his… _paws_ … and closes his eyes. _This isn’t real. I’ll wake up and be in my bedroom._

A burst of wind ruffles his… _fur_ , what even… and Viktor shudders. _Why is it snowing?_ he wonders, his eyes popping open again. _It’s the springtime, why is it snowing? This is definitely a dream._

He shudders again and curls up into a tighter ball, and the tail bops him on the nose. _This isn’t real,_ he keeps telling himself. _It’s not._

He tries to quiet his mind, wake himself up. Because this is _not_ real.

He just gets colder, his paws going numb, and he keeps sneezing. _Oh, I’m so cold,_ he thinks. _This is the worst dream ever._

He hears an exclamation of surprise, and the weak morning light is blocked out. The voice is familiar, but he can’t place it. He’s feeling sluggish and tired and his brain feels frozen, but he raises his head and forces his eyes back open.

A young man is standing over him, shovel in hand. He’s wearing a thick coat and scarf, and his glasses are familiar too. Viktor’s vision is weird, the colors are off in a way that he’d never experienced before, but then the man kneels down and offers Viktor his hand to sniff.

He smells pleasant, like warm linen and something spicy, and he seems familiar…

Then, Viktor gets a good look at his face and his heart jumps in his chest.

Yuuri Katsuki!

 _This is a good dream!_ Viktor decides, and he can feel that tail wagging. He struggles to uncurl and stand, but his limbs are all wobbly.

Katsuki makes a concerned noise, and then Viktor finds himself getting scooped up into surprisingly strong arms. Katsuki’s body is warm, and Viktor feels an odd fluttering in his own chest.

 _Good dream,_ he thinks again, his head resting on Katsuki’s shoulder. _I like this dream._

Katsuki mutters something in Japanese, which Viktor doesn’t understand at all, and leaves the shovel behind as he turns towards a building that Viktor doesn’t remember ever seeing before. Katsuki calls, and someone opens up the door to let him in. It’s a man who is a bit shorter than Katsuki, with glasses and a pleasant face. He has a similar smile to what Viktor remembers from the banquet… this must be Katsuki’s father.

Katsuki says something, and his father opens his arms. Katsuki hefts Viktor into his father’s grasp and the shorter man laughs and starts shuffling into the building. Viktor is still too sluggish to comprehend what’s going on, and it’s warm and smells nice, so he decides to not worry about it.

 _Good dream_ , he thinks again, and his tail wags slightly. Mr. Katsuki the elder laughs again and pats his side before gently setting him down in a small room with a short table and not much else. He says something that Viktor still doesn’t understand, and reaches under the table to remove a blanket.

Viktor isn’t sure what Mr. Katsuki is doing, but the floor is pretty comfortable and he can feel his limbs starting to warm up and loosen. Mr. Katsuki folds the blanket a couple times and then gently shuffles him over onto it. He pats Viktor’s head, and says something else before straightening up and heading back out into the hallway.

Viktor lays his head down on the blanket and closes his eyes. _Oh, that was nice of him,_ he thinks, and things get hazy again as he slowly drifts off once more.

-

Viktor wakes up again, and he’s starving. Also, someone’s petting him.

 _Feels so nice,_ he thinks, his stomach doing funny things in his belly. How long had it been since he’d been touched like this? Even Yakov didn’t really initiate physical contact all that much anymore. But someone’s gently rubbing at his head, and it feels so good. His tail thumps on the floor.

Oh. It’s not a dream. He’s actually a dog.

He opens his eyes, and Yuuri Katsuki is looking down at him with fond concern. There’s a sweet little smile on his lips, and he says something that Viktor definitely doesn’t understand, but his hand is warm and Viktor likes the way it feels threading through the curly fur on his head. He shuffles and rearranges himself so that he can lay his head on Yuuri’s thigh, and the Japanese skater laughs and scratches under his ear.

 _I could… get used to this._ Viktor’s tail thumps on the floor harder, and Yuuri laughs again.

Viktor’s stomach grumbles, and he’s debating ignoring it so that Yuuri will keep petting him, but then Yuuri is shifting under him and gently chivvying him up into a stand. Viktor feels like a newborn fawn, his limbs tangling under him. It’s so weird, to be walking on four legs instead of two. Yuuri holds onto him, and once Viktor has gotten his feet under him, he says something in a bright voice and pats him on the side.

Viktor realizes he’ll do anything to hear that tone of voice again. His tail wags even more.

The door behind Yuuri slides open, and a woman who looks close to his own age comes in. Her hair is two-toned and pushed back off her face, and she’s wearing a red outfit that kind of reminds Viktor of scrubs. She also has a pawprint-patterned bowl in her hands. She says something to Yuuri, who answers, and hands him the bowl before smiling down at Viktor and patting his head too.

 _I must be a cute dog,_ Viktor thinks, beaming. He’s already decided to freak out about waking up as an actual dog later, when there aren’t people giving him attention.

Yuuri shepherds him a bit away from the table and sets the bowl down, and Viktor can see it’s filled with canned dog food. He himself tends to give Makkachin dry food, but now he realizes that’s been a mistake. The wet food smells _amazing_ , and he can feel his mouth watering. He shuffles forward and buries his face in the bowl, and his stomach clenches in protest as he starts to inhale the food.

Yuuri says something and tries to tug the bowl away from him, but Viktor is _starving_ and chases it with his nose, somehow ending up on his belly. His legs are still wobbly, and he’s not sure why. He looks up at Yuuri and whines, and Yuuri’s forehead crinkles.

He tells Viktor something and puts the bowl back down, and Viktor immediately lunges for it again. Yuuri yelps and pushes him back, and Viktor looks up at him again.

Yuuri taps him on the nose. “ _Yukkuri,_ ” he says.

Viktor has no idea what that means. All he knows is that he wants food, and his stomach is already flipping around in his belly.

He noses at Yuuri’s hand. _Please,_ he thinks, and tries to put it into his eyes.

Yuuri repeats whatever he’d said previously, and sets down the bowl again. Viktor is much more cautious as he starts licking at the food once more, but he looks up and sees Yuuri’s relieved expression.

Oh. Yuuri didn’t want him eating too fast. That made sense, Makkachin used to do that and vomit all of her dinner back up at bedtime.

Viktor decides that Yuuri must like him, at least like this, because he keeps on petting Viktor as he eats. Every touch makes his tail wag even harder.

Yuuri sighs and says something in a soft, gentle tone, and Viktor immediately knows it’s praise. He drinks it in as he licks the bowl clean, and Yuuri laughs.

He has such a nice laugh. Viktor wouldn’t mind hearing that laugh every day, forever.

Viktor pushes the bowl away with his nose and then resettles himself so that his head is in Yuuri’s lap. His stomach is calming down, and Yuuri starts petting him again so everything is even better.

Yuuri repeats himself again, and Viktor figures out what he must be saying.

_Good boy._

It’s like someone scooped a star out of the night sky and put it in Viktor’s chest, and he basks in Yuuri’s attention. If this _is_ a dream (which Viktor is becoming more and more convinced that it’s not) then he doesn’t want to ever wake up.

He dozes on and off as Yuuri talks to him, his voice a soothing background noise, and eventually the sliding door opens again and another woman steps in. She’s older than the woman who brought Viktor’s food, and much shorter. Her hair is a dark auburn, and she has round glasses on her nose. Her face is soft, and so much like Yuuri’s. She must be his mother.

Viktor can’t suppress a whimper of delight. He has to be in Yuuri’s home. Yuuri brought him to his _home_. It’s better than a dream.

Yuuri’s mother coos softly and covers her mouth with her hands. She says something to Yuuri, who tenses up before visibly relaxing and nodding.

She says something else and gestures at the table, and Yuuri’s stomach growls right next to Viktor’s ear. Mrs. Katsuki laughs and disappears into the hallway again, and Yuuri sighs and rubs his own stomach.

 _You can eat but I want you to keep petting me_ , Viktor thinks plaintively. He’s pleased when Yuuri goes back to threading his fingers through Viktor’s fleece.

Yuuri’s mother comes back with a bowl of something that smells delicious, and Viktor can’t help but sit up when she sets it down on the table in front of Yuuri.

 _What is this?_ He sniffs in interest, and Yuuri scoots forward so he can pick up the chopsticks. _Oh, that smells too good to be healthy._

Viktor’s leaning forward before he can even register the movement, and Yuuri yelps and redirects his nose away from the bowl. He says something and pats Viktor on the head, and then he pops a bit of whatever the food is into his mouth.

Viktor whines and lays his head down on the table, eyes locked on the bowl, and Yuuri snorts. He keeps eating, and pushing Viktor’s nose away when Viktor tries to investigate his meal. But it _does_ smell too good to be low-calorie, and if Yuuri wants to keep competing then he can’t be eating this too often.

 _But he’s retiring,_ Viktor remembers. But he looks happy, and his family seems supportive. Is this really so bad?

Yuuri sighs contentedly as he finishes his food, and then shuffles to his feet and picks up his dinnerware.

 _Oh, where are you going? No, wait, I’m coming with--_ Viktor’s a little steadier when he stands up this time, and he follows Yuuri out of the room and down a hallway, out into a larger dining room dotted with more short tables and a large television along the wall. There’s a football match playing on the TV, and a few older men lounging on cushions by the tables. They call out greetings to Yuuri, who waves and makes his way through another doorway. He waits for Viktor to shuffle through after him, and Viktor looks around at this new room.

It’s a cosy little kitchen, and both of Yuuri’s parents are working on food and drinks. They smile at Yuuri, and his mom stoops down to pat Viktor on the head, and Yuuri joins his father at the counter to drop his bowl in the sink and flip on the faucet. Viktor settles against a wall and just watches as Yuuri starts washing dishes, sleeves rolled up, and his parents bustle around him.

Yuuri’s dad sneaks Viktor a few morsels of food, and his wife scolds him before doing the same when she thinks no one else is looking. Viktor sees Yuuri roll his eyes, and then set down a bowl of water for Viktor to drink. Viktor hadn’t realized how thirsty he’d been, and laps up most of it right away. Yuuri refills the bowl and Viktor drinks a little more before settling back on his haunches and wagging his tail.

Yuuri’s mother says something cheerfully, and Yuuri nods and strokes Viktor’s head.

 _They like me, and I didn’t even have to do anything._ His entire being warm at that thought, Viktor settles down to watch the family work. The woman who brought Viktor’s food pops in, and ruffles Yuuri’s hair even though she’s a good head shorter than him. The action reminds Viktor of how he is around Yura, and he thinks _Yuuri’s sister_. She looks nice, even though he can smell cigarette smoke on her. She and her and Yuuri’s mother both grab trays and make their way back out into the dining room, and Yuuri steals some of whatever his father is cooking. Mr. Katsuki flicks his son on the nose and laughs, and Yuuri makes a face at him before drying his hands.

When Yuuri takes his leave from the kitchen, Viktor follows. They wander deeper into the building, into what’s clearly the family’s living quarters, and Yuuri slides another door open to let them both in. Viktor pads into the room after him and looks around.

It’s Yuuri’s bedroom, he realizes. There’s a moderately-sized twin bed against a wall, under a window with the drapes drawn, and a desk on the opposite wall, a shelf set into the far wall next to a closet, and a few little drawer sets with things stacked on top of them. But what Viktor immediately notices are the posters.

The room is _papered_ with posters of him, ranging from official merchandise to clippings from magazines. Viktor is confronted with his own face staring down from multiple vantage points on all of the walls.

 _He’s a fan_ , Viktor realizes, and he isn’t sure how to feel about it. But Yuuri doesn’t do anything weird, like kiss a poster or touch his fingers to the picture’s lips or anything like that, he just pulls the chair out from the desk and boot up his laptop. He smiles down at Viktor, which makes him feel better.

Viktor decides to investigate a little more, and he can hear the chair creaking as Yuuri turns to watch him sniff around the perimeter of the room. He discovers a piano keyboard in the corner, and an unpaired sock hidden behind a suitcase, but otherwise Yuuri keeps his room fairly tidy. It smells like him, but Viktor can detect a faded scent of another dog.

Funny, he hasn’t encountered any other dogs since Yuuri brought him inside. In fact, the only thing he can really recall is that Yuuri’s family already had dog food and bowls for it.

The scent is old, he can’t tell how he knows this, but the scent of another dog is not at all recent.

_Oh._

Viktor’s heart aches for Yuuri, it can’t have been easy to have lost his dog at all. Viktor doesn’t know how he would handle losing Makkachin.

He’s suddenly overwhelmed with longing to see his dog, but… well. How could he?

Still, it’s enough to dampen his mood, and he finds himself curling up next to the bed. Yuuri murmurs something from his desk, and goes back to whatever he had been doing on his laptop. Eventually, Viktor can hear soft piano music from the laptop’s tinny speakers. He recognizes it, one of the Ladies Singles competitors from Japan had skated to it at Worlds. He doesn’t remember her name, but he remembers watching as he was winding down from practice for his free skate. She’d been exceptionally graceful and dainty, and he’d thought that her scores were rather unfairly low.

Yuuri seems to agree, because when the footage of the kiss-and-cry and the scores comes up, he makes a displeased noise in his throat and mutters something. He clicks over to another video, this time of what appears to be ballet dancers, and the music is light and soothing. Viktor catches himself dozing off a little, and decides there’s no harm in falling asleep. He’s still pretty tired, maybe another nap will help with that…

-

He wakes up again when Yuuri shuts his laptop and pushes his chair back to get up, and suddenly Viktor is very, _very_ aware that he needs to pee.

Slowly, he stretches and yawns back into full wakefulness, and then rolls to his feet so he can follow Yuuri back out of his bedroom.

Yuuri asks him something, and Viktor hopes it’s “do you need to go outside” because _yes,_ he does. He follows his nose to where he can smell fresh air coming from, and once he’s certain that he’s found a door that leads outside, he paws at it.

Yuuri laughs and slides the door open to let Viktor out, and Viktor makes an undignified bound for the ground beyond the little porch that greets him as he scrambles outside. He finds a spot of undisturbed snow and there’s a sensation of _release_.

He can hear Yuuri laughing harder from the porch, but he can’t be bothered to feel judged. _At least I didn’t mess up your parents’ floors,_ he thinks, and once he’s finished he decides to sniff around some more.

There are a lot of interesting smells in the little yard, mostly of animals like squirrels and birds, but the snow covering everything dampens the scents. He does find a spot of something that he doesn’t recognize immediately, but he figures out it’s another animal that he doesn’t have a name for. Interesting.

Viktor’s paws are getting cold, so he runs back to the porch and whines at the door again. Yuuri opens it back up all the way, and catches Viktor as he runs in so he can wipe him down with a soft towel.

Viktor is immensely enjoying all of the touching, that’s the _best_ part of being turned into a dog. Yuuri skritches him under the ears, and Viktor finds himself melting, leaning into Yuuri’s hands.

“Awwh,” Yuuri murmurs, butting his forehead against Viktor’s. “ _Kawaii ne._ ”

Viktor presses up against him, begging for more, and Yuuri obliges. _This is… this is so good_ , he thinks, the warmth in his chest swelling. _This feels so good. How have I missed this for so long?_

Yuuri buries his nose in the fur on Viktor’s head, and Viktor’s heart thuds in his chest as he feels a little kiss pressed into it. He presses up against Yuuri’s legs as the Japanese man straightens up and gives him one last pat before beckoning him back to the eating area. Viktor can smell food cooking, and his stomach gives a little rumble, letting him know it’s been a while since that morning’s meal.

They end up in the larger dining room. This time, Yuuri sets down a bowl of dry food mixed with wet food, and Viktor happily chows down on it while Yuuri settles by the TV with a bowl of what smells like steamed vegetables and rice. Viktor finally glances at the TV and is displeased to see footage of his performance at Worlds playing as a commentator talks over it in Japanese. Viktor can’t make heads or tails of what’s being said, but he does notice that Yuuri’s frozen, staring at the TV in shock.

One of the other patrons asks something, and when Yuuri doesn’t respond he repeats himself, adding a worried “Yuuri-kun?”

Yuuri breathes in a shuddering breath, and pushes his dinner away.

His sister is at his side now, her hand on his shoulder, and Yuuri is shaking his head. He’s scrambling to his feet again, pushing away from everyone, and Viktor immediately follows.

He finds Yuuri in the entrance, shoving his feet into boots and throwing on his coat and a backpack. His face is flushed, and his eyes are bright with tears.

Viktor noses at him in concern. _What happened?_

Yuuri mutters something and then lets himself out, and Viktor runs along beside him.

The town and seaside flash past as Viktor scrambles to keep up with Yuuri, and they head into a more densely packed area, populated with businesses and apartment buildings.

Yuuri immediately makes his way up to one door and pounds on it, and it opens to reveal a young-looking woman with straight brown hair and a dancer’s slim build. She takes one look at Yuuri and says something flatly.

Yuuri deflates, and the woman tugs him inside. She stops when she sees Viktor, looking questioningly at Yuuri

Yuuri startles when he realizes Viktor followed him, and the woman says something, her voice softer.

Viktor reacts without thinking when Yuuri bursts into tears, and immediately pushes past the woman to press up against Yuuri. The other skater collapses to his knees and tugs Viktor into a hug, which is uncomfortable at first until he readjusts and rubs his face against Yuuri’s.

Yuuri sniffles, and Viktor leans into him.

The woman says something and closes her door, tugging Yuuri to his feet and helping him take his coat off. She grabs the discarded backpack and gestures at Yuuri’s shoes, which he takes off and puts aside, and then pulls him further into her apartment.

Viktor follows them in and realizes it’s not an apartment. It’s a ballet studio. There’s an entire mirror-wall and a barre set into it, and along wall opposite the door under the high-set windows, are large pink 3D letters spelling out “MINAKO” and a yoga ball. There are posters hung up around the room, a little water cooler, and spotless wooden floors. It’s cosy, certainly moreso than Lilia’s studio where he’d trained as a child.

Viktor lets the woman wipe his paws off with a dishtowel and then chases after Yuuri, finding him sitting against the mirror under the barre and struggling to lace up his dancing shoes. His hands are shaking and his glasses are slipping down his nose.

The woman kneels down next to him and removes the endangered glasses, setting them aside with the over-clothes Yuuri’s already shed, and then gently bumps Yuuri’s hands away and does up the laces herself. She helps him to his feet and then pats his cheeks before stepping away and barking out something with authority.

Yuuri immediately snaps into the first position of ballet, hand on the barre, and the woman begins to run him through all of the basic positions before chivvying him onto his toes. She claps to keep a rhythm, and Yuuri begins to dance.

This dancing is nothing like the dancing in Sochi. Viktor watches in awe from his spot next to Yuuri’s extra clothes as Yuuri goes through a routine, his limbs held strong and angled, his body lines etched with a grief that Viktor doesn’t understand.

Yuuri is out of shape, that’s immediately evident. His body is much softer from what Viktor remembers of that wild night at the GPF banquet, his tummy is rounded out and his thighs are wider, but he still moves with such grace and feeling that leaves Viktor aching with something he can’t describe. Once he gets focused, he gets lost in the movement, and it’s utter artistry to watch. Viktor can’t tear his eyes away as Yuuri leaps, his form a little sloppy, but the emotion bleeds out from every part of him.

The longer he goes, the more sure of his movements he becomes. Turns and pivots are tightened up, his movements grow steady, and Viktor can see the fine control over his limbs that only years of ballet and skating could bestow.

_Be my coach, Viktor~!_

If Yuuri had meant it, Viktor would have accepted in a heartbeat after watching this. If this is Yuuri off the ice, with no pressure on him, Viktor wants to see how he could help translate it back onto the ice. He’s seen Yuuri’s past performances, he knows the interpretive skill is there. If he could help Yuuri marry his emotional performance with Viktor’s own technical knowledge, Yuuri could be _unstoppable_.

But…

Viktor catches sight of himself in the mirror, and he sees what he looks like for the first time. To his shock, he’s become a silver-gray version of Makkachin. His fleece is cropped much shorter than his preferred teddy bear cut, but otherwise he looks like a dead ringer for his own dog, if not a little bit bigger than his beloved poodle.

 _Well, I_ am _pretty cute,_ he admits to himself. _Can’t deny it._ He lays his head down on the floor and looks back at Yuuri, who seems lost to the world. Even the woman has stopped keeping the beat and is now watching silently from the bar, arms crossed and brow furrowed in concern.

Viktor looks up at the dancing man, and wonders what could have been.

-

It feels like Yuuri dances for hours, and by the time he’s worn himself out, he seems to have also run out of grief. Viktor is relieved, and shoves his face into Yuuri’s side as he sits down to change out of his dancing shoes.

Yuuri laughs softly and curls up around him, and he’s shaking now from weariness instead of sadness.

The woman pushes a cup of water into his hand and ruffles his hair before leaving him to finish changing. Yuuri downs the entire thing and sets it aside as he shrugs into his sweatshirt again and jams his glasses onto his nose.

His posture is the opposite of the stiff-backed ballet dancer Viktor had seen just moments before; all of his wild energy seems to have retreated back inside of him, and Viktor keeps a close eye on him as he bundles back up for the run home and slips his boots on again. The woman lets them out, patting Yuuri’s shoulder, and then they set off at a much more leisurely pace.

Viktor looks up at Yuuri, at his reddened eyes and nose, and decides that he doesn’t like seeing Yuuri cry. He has no idea what he’ll do if it happens again, but it is _unacceptable_.

 _I guess I’m his now,_ he thinks, and he’s strangely okay with that. _I need to make it worthwhile, then._

That night, when Yuuri disappears out to the hot springs that Viktor vaguely remembers him babbling about at the banquet, Viktor curls up on Yuuri’s bed as he waits for his new… _owner_ … to return.

He wonders what will happen now. Surely, Yakov and the others have noticed his disappearance. He can’t possibly still be somewhere out there, he _has_ to have missed a practice.

What will happen to Makkachin? He feels a pang of worry before he remembers that Yakov would never let anything bad happen to his precious dog. Maybe his dogsitter will keep looking after her, or Yakov himself will take her in. He’s done it before.

And really, Viktor’s okay with whatever may happen, so long as Makkachin will be taken care of like she deserves to be. He’ll miss her the most, and it will hurt if he never sees her again, but…

 _But_ , he thinks as Yuuri comes back into his bedroom, dressed in fresh sweats and looking a lot more relaxed. _I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know how to undo it. But maybe this is why._

Yuuri switches off his lights and slides under the covers on his bed, and Viktor curls up next to him.

 _I can live like this,_ he decides, as Yuuri falls asleep with his hand on Viktor’s flank.

-

Days bleed into weeks, and Viktor loses track of time. The snow melts, the cherry blossoms push through, and the sun returns to the sky as he settles into a routine, following Yuuri around the Katsuki home and his town, getting lots of attention from Yuuri’s neighbors, and keeping him company. When Yuuri isn’t around, he endears himself to the rest of the Katsuki family. Mrs. Katsuki kisses him on the forehead a lot, which makes him feel all warm and tingly inside. It reminds him of his own mother, and that doesn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.

Mr. Katsuki slips him table scraps, and Mrs. Katsuki scolds him whenever she catches him doing so. Yuuri’s sister on the other hand is nice to seek out when he wants some quiet time, and he often finds her on the back porch with a cigarette, sitting in silence and contemplating the outdoors. She’s relaxing to be around, even if the smell of smoke is a bit irritating.

But Yuuri is the one that Viktor finds himself gravitating towards the most. He goes on runs with Yuuri in the morning, and waits for him outside of what has to be his home rink. One day, the owners of the rink find him outside and bring him in, settling him with a bowl of water, and he spends the day getting pampered by the owners’ three daughters as Yuuri throws himself all over the ice.

Yuuri seems to be getting back into a fairly relaxed routine of working out, but it’s nothing close to the intensity of someone preparing for a competitive season. He really must be retiring after all. Still, he practices step sequences and jumps, and his form is still good. Viktor wishes he could tell Yuuri to keep going, and push through whatever had been blocking him in the previous season.

Some nights, Yuuri ends back up at the ballet studio with the woman he calls “Minako-sensei.” Viktor has seen enough anime to realize that Minako-sensei must have been Yuuri’s first ballet teacher, and he’s not sure of how old she actually is. Still, he sees the Benois de la Danse trophy displayed proudly on a shelf, and he recognizes the respect she commands in her home studio. She too gives him attention when he approaches her, and is pleasant to be around. He likes her, even if she teases Yuuri a bit too much. She must be like family, to get away with that.

Viktor sometimes has bouts of envy: Yuuri’s home life is so rich and full, and his family is so supportive. Viktor has been on his own for so long that he’s forgotten what it feels like to have the warmth of unconditional support behind him. How could Yuuri ever feel discouraged, with so much love surrounding him?

Yuuri spends a lot of time working in his parents’ business, helping his sister clean and even doing some of the cooking. When he’s not doing that, or dancing or skating, he’s in his room reading, or playing video games, or goofing around on the internet. He keeps busy, one way or another, and Viktor likes sitting with him as he does so.

Some nights, Yuuri cries himself to sleep. Viktor is getting better at telling when those days are coming; Yuuri becomes distant from everyone around him, disappears to the ice rink for hours just to skate aimless figure-eights, eyes dull and unseeing. He goes for long runs to the temple up the hill and sometimes just sits and stares at the ocean, barely moving. He vanishes inside his own head, and it’s all that Viktor can do to bring him back.

He talks to Viktor constantly, an unending stream of consciousness that Viktor cannot hope to comprehend, but he picks up words here and there. He hears his own name come up, but he’s starting to notice less and less. He learns the Japanese commands for _sit_ and _stay_ and _come here_ , and even figures out a way to delight anybody trying to tempt him with food: a little poodle dance, like how Makkachin used to do before her joints started giving her trouble.

Everyone calls him “Vicchan”, and he likes that name a lot better than his own. There are times when he forgets what he used to look like, which is odd. But it doesn’t bother him, really. He hasn’t felt this relaxed, this content, this _happy_ in a long while. He’s stopped thinking _when_ he’ll transform back; instead, it’s _if_ he’ll transform back. And, it’s looking less than likely that he will.

And he couldn’t possibly care less.

-

_He looks down at his hands in confusion. “I don’t have these anymore,” he muses, flexing his fingers. It feels so foreign to him. He’s not sure if he likes it._

_He’s not in Yuuri’s bedroom. In fact, he’s pretty sure that he’s not anywhere in particular. There’s solid ground underneath his feet, but everything is bathed in white fog that feels neither hot nor cold._

_“This is definitely a dream,” he decides._

_“There you are!”_

_He almost jumps in surprise, but everything feels slower, so instead he turns to face whoever spoke._

_She’s familiar, but he can’t tell where he’s seen her before. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s sure he has a wary expression on his face._

_“I don’t know what I thought would happen when I gave you that wish, but I never expected this!” she says, looking exhausted. “I’ve been searching all of Russia and the rest of Europe for you, and you’ve been in Japan this whole time?! I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you, either.”_

_“What do you want?” he asks, and he can’t even be bothered to inject false pleasantry into his voice._

_Her brows draw together. “Viktor,” she says. “I have to undo the wish. The world’s gone crazy wondering where you are.”_

_He doesn’t care. “No,” he says, backing away from her. “I’m… that’s not me anymore.”_

_“Viktor, I know you’ve been having a rough time, but you can’t stay like this. I can’t leave you transformed--”_

_“I’m Vicchan,” he interrupts her, and he glares mulishly at her. “I want to stay here.”_

_Her eyes widen. “You’re losing your mind,” she says flatly._

_How insulting. He feels quite sane. “No, I’m not.”_

_“No, you’re losing your human mind,” she says, her eyes frantic. “I_ have _to undo the wish. The longer you stay in that form, the less of the human-you there will be.”_

_“Good,” he laughs. “Good. That’s what I want.”_

_“Viktor, please--”_

_“Go away,” he says, turning away from her. “I’m happy. Leave me alone.”_

-

He doesn’t remember the dream when he wakes up, because Yuuri goes running again and stops to sit at the beach. He leaves Yuuri to explore and investigate this new territory. It’s not quite warm enough for beach season, but it’s getting warmer all the same.

He goes back to Yuuri after a bit, because Yuuri’s been staring out at the sea for a long time. He doesn’t like it when Yuuri gets quiet like this… not to say that Yuuri isn’t normally quiet, but there’s a different sort of quiet when Yuuri gets sad.

He lays his head in Yuuri’s lap, and Yuuri wipes the sand off of his muzzle. “ _Good boy,_ ” he says.

They sit quietly for a bit longer, Yuuri petting him and thinking, before he gets up and brushes the sand off of his workout pants. “ _Come,_ ” he says. “ _Let’s go._ ”

They run home, and Yuuri lets them in. He’s taking off his shoes when a voice rings out through the entrance hall.

“ _Yuuri_ ~!”

Yuuri blinks as a cute girl skids out of the dining room and does a little hop so she can tackle-hug him. “Naomi?” he squeaks, barely catching himself before they can both fall over.

“I _told_ you I’d come!” she squeals, wriggling. “Oh my _god_ , Yuuri! It’s so gorgeous here! You’ve been keeping this gem all to yourself, you jerk!”

“I told you that you could come,” Yuuri says, still sounding a bit shocked. “When did you arrive?”

“Last night, I’ve got a hotel room in Fukuoka. I’m gonna spend the day here and then roll back into the city when y’all get sick of me.” Naomi grins and pulls back, her curly hair bouncing and adding even more movement to her already-animated form. “Oh my god, you look so much better! I was worried about you, you know,” she added, jostling Yuuri a little. “You looked so unwell at graduation, I had half a mind to follow you back here right away.”

Yuuri snorts. “Thanks for not doing that.” He shrugs off his jacket, and she finally notices that Yuuri isn’t alone.

“Ooh, Yuuri! I thought you’d lost your dog!”

“I found him outside in the courtyard a month ago, he was freezing to death in the random cold snap we got.”

Naomi squats down so she’s eye level with Viktor, and offers her hand for him to sniff. He’s not sure if he likes how familiar she is with _his_ Yuuri, but she smells nice enough and he gets a sense that she’s not a bad person. She immediately finds the spot behind his ear that he likes scratched the best, and he decides she’s okay. _For now._

“You just _found_ him?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. “This handsome boy? Surely he’s got owners?”

Yuuri freezes. “I… he didn’t have a collar--”

“Did you put up posters?”

“We did,” Yuuri says, but he sounds unhappy about it. “No one’s come forward.”

“Hm.” Naomi says, stroking the tufts on top of Viktor’s head. “What does he respond to?”

“He… responds to Vicchan.”

Naomi gives Yuuri another incredulous look as Viktor butts up against him, tail wagging gleefully. “Isn’t that your other dog’s name?”

“We just… we’ve all called him by that by mistake and he’s responded, so.” Yuuri shrugs, and Viktor can tell he’s not happy anymore and jumps up to lick at his face.

“Interesting.” Naomi looks at Viktor. “Well, at least see if he’s chipped.”

“Yeah. I… kept planning to do it, but.”

“You kept forgetting?” Naomi supplied, and Yuuri winced. “No, I don’t blame you, he’s a sweetheart. But…” She gestures at Viktor, and Viktor doesn’t like how distressed she’s making Yuuri.

“I know,” Yuuri admits. “I know it’s not… if someone comes forward and claims him, I’ll give him up.”

 _No,_ Viktor thinks, and growls at Naomi.

Yuuri gasps and shushes him, and Naomi stands, her face unreadable. “He’s protecting you,” she observes. “You must have really made an impression.”

 _He saved my life_ , Viktor thinks.

“I’m so sorry,” Yuuri is saying, moving to get in between Viktor and Naomi. “I-- he’s never done this before.”

“No, I pissed him off. He’s sensitive to you, can’t you tell?”

Yuuri looks Viktor in the eye, and Viktor nudges Yuuri with his nose. If Yuuri wants him to stop growling at his University friend, he’ll stop. But if she keeps making Yuuri sad, he’s not putting up with it.

“I guess he is,” Yuuri says eventually. He pats Viktor on the head and straightens up. “So. Uh. Did you try the onsen?”

“Not yet,” Naomi answers, and she easily smiles again even as she looks at Viktor with an expression that makes him very uncomfortable. “I was testing out my four years of Japanese lessons on your neighbors, and I completely forgot about the accents.”

“Oh my god,” Yuuri says, smothering a chuckle behind his hand. “Uh, let’s sit down. I was going to cook something…”

“I’ll help!”

Viktor growls again, and Yuuri winces in embarrassment, but Naomi shoots Viktor a knowing look and says, “Shush, buddy.”

Viktor blinks and falls silent, and Naomi raises her eyebrows.

“I knew you were good with animals, but not _this_ good,” Yuuri says as he strips off his running shoes. “Anyway, my parents won’t let you cook if you’re a guest.”

“I’ll charm them,” Naomi says breezily, and they make their way down the hallway into the kitchen. Viktor bites down angry noises every time Naomi bumps Yuuri’s shoulder.

He’s even more displeased when Mr. and Mrs. Katsuki allow Naomi to help Yuuri cook, and he can only curl up against the wall and watch as she chatters in awkward Japanese and learns the ins and outs of the local cuisine.

When Naomi and Yuuri take their meals to the dining room, Viktor shoves his way between them as they sit down to eat. Yuuri sputters an apology, while Naomi just raises her eyebrows and scoots down a little bit. Viktor isn’t satisfied.

He listens to them talk over his head, going in and out of English, and Yuuri corrects her Japanese grammar a few times. Their conversation shifts to what they’ve been doing since their graduation; Naomi has been traveling through the Midwest, and has decided that something called the “Bible Belt” can officially go “kiss my hiney, if you please”; she has to slap Yuuri on the back when he starts choking after that.

She’s pleasant and cheerful, and Yuuri seems to enjoy her company. Viktor is starting to dislike her against his will, because otherwise he would be completely fine with her.

If she’d just stop touching Yuuri, everything would be fine.

“So,” she asks, long after they’ve finished eating. “Is it true? Are you really retired?”

“I mean.” Yuuri sets his chopsticks across his bowl and pushes it away from him. His eyes are fixed on the table, his posture slumping. “I… I suppose I am.”

“You sound thrilled,” Naomi observes, propping her chin in her palm and leaning on the table. “Second thoughts?”

“I… no, not really.” Yuuri starts tracing patterns on the polished wood with his fingers. “I… I don’t _want_ to give up,” he admits. “I still love skating, and dancing. It’s just.” He shrugs. “It’s just that I’ve lost all inspiration.”

“Why is that?” Naomi asks.

Yuuri shrugs again.

“Is it because of that Nikivoff guy?”

“Nikiforov,” Yuuri corrects her. “Viktor Nikiforov. And I guess that he’s part of it.”

“Did they ever figure out what happened to him?” Naomi asks, and Yuuri shakes his head.

“He just vanished one day,” Yuuri says softly. “People had been saying he was acting really unhappy for a while. Someone started a rumor that he killed himself.”

“Jesus.”

“I don’t think he did,” Yuuri quickly adds. “At least, I hope not. He’s… he’s really important to the figure skating world, you know? And I know that he knows that. He _has_ to.”

“You’ve never met him, though,” Naomi points out.

Yuuri sighs. “True.”

Viktor sits straight up and stares at Yuuri. How could he not remember the Sochi banquet? Had he really been _that_ drunk?

“So you have no idea what was going on in his head,” Naomi adds.

Yuuri laughs, a harsh little noise. “Yeah, true.”

“Maybe he’s taking a nice vacation in the countryside. Or, like, a spiritual retreat.” Naomi smiles and nudges Yuuri again. “Everybody needs some time to themselves, Yuuri. Even living legends.”

“I just wish he’d… let everyone know that he’s still alive. I… I just.” Yuuri drums his fingers on the table, licks his lips. “Skating won’t be the same without him, you know?”

“Yuuri, you shouldn’t base your decision to skate entirely around one person,” Naomi argues. “You should skate for yourself.”

Yuuri sighs again. “I know.”

“I mean it.”

“I _know_.”

They sit in silence for a moment, broken only by some murmuring from near the TV, and Viktor is starting to feel antsy.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Naomi says suddenly. “Let’s go skating this evening. You up for it?”

Viktor bristles, and lets out a displeased noise when Yuuri agrees. They decide to spend the afternoon walking around the town, Yuuri playing tour guide, and Viktor becomes determined to stick as closely to them as physically possible.

Yuuri insists that there isn’t much to the town, but Naomi seems to have a lot of fun regardless. She asks to be introduced to the locals, engaging them in Japanese and copying their pronunciation, and Yuuri laughs at her attempts at a country accent. Viktor bristles again at that.

They stop by Minako-sensei’s studio, and Viktor gets to hear Minako-sensei talk in English for the first time. He sourly notes that Naomi seems to be charming Yuuri’s ballet teacher as well.

 _I wonder if they all approve of her flirting with him,_ he thinks bitterly.

After several hours of exploring the town - Hasetsu, and Viktor’s kicking himself for not already knowing the name of the place he’d been for a month - they head over to the rink. Viktor is allowed in and watches, annoyed, as the rink owner - Yuuko - chats with Naomi and rents out a pair of skates. The three of them have to look up her shoe size, and Yuuko’s daughters clamor for her attention all the while. Once she’s given skates (and insisted on paying for herself) Yuuri helps her lace up and they go out onto the freshly-resurfaced ice.

“I’ve been rollerblading a lot,” Naomi says, executing a sloppy turn. “It’s nothing impressive, but I don’t think I’ll fall on my ass.”

“You probably fall down a lot less than me,” Yuuri answers, but he moves on the ice like he’s on solid, dry ground. On the other hand, Naomi is steady on her blades, her center of gravity is low so she doesn’t fall, and yes, she definitely does rollerblade. But she’s not a figure skater.

“Show me a jump,” she calls, and Yuuri snorts at her before picking up speed and then launching into a decent triple lutz. Naomi claps and cheers. Viktor barks out encouragement.

“Yuuri!” Yuuko calls from the boards, and then a familiar sound rings out.

The sound of a crowd screaming.

Yuuri comes to a stop and frowns, and Yuuko beckons to Naomi. “Come, come here!” she yells. “Yuuri can do one of Viktor’s routines!”

_What?_

“Yuuko, no,” Yuuri says, his mouth turned down in displeasure. “Please.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Naomi agrees. “He could do the Chicken Dance and I’d be content watching that.”

The Japanese commentator announces something that includes _Viktor Nikiforov_ , and Viktor looks at Yuuri, standing alone in the middle of the rink.

“Yuuri, you can do one of Viktor Nikiforov’s most difficult programmes,” Yuuko wheedles. “It’s so cool!”

“I really don’t feel like it,” Yuuri argues.

The audio stops and Yuuko pouts.

“Why don’t you do one of yours?” Naomi suggests. “Your favorite from the last season?”

“I… don’t really…”

“Okay.” Naomi glides to him, stopping herself by catching his arm. “How about you teach me stuff until I’m less of a penguin on the ice?”

Yuuri agrees, and Yuuko watches him from the boards, her face unreadable.

A bit later, Viktor rouses himself from a half-nap as Naomi skates back to the boards and Yuuri sets up to show off more of his jumps. “He’s really good,” she says to Yuuko, who sighs.

“Yeah, he is.”

“I wish there was a way to convince him to keep going. He really shouldn’t be retiring, you know? He’s got more to prove.”

Yuuko rubs her forehead. “I… I don’t know how to do that. He just lost all steam when Viktor disappeared. We’ve been following his skating since we were both kids, and Yuuri always wanted to compete against him.”

“But he _did_ compete against him,” Naomi points out. “In December, right?”

“Yes, but you know how that went, right?”

Naomi winces. “I mean, he’s so competitive, I’m surprised he backed off so quickly.”

Yuuko snorts. “He’s a study in contradictions.”

Yuuri finishes the step sequence he had been in the middle of and then pulls off a nice triple axel. The women both clap appreciatively and Naomi whoops.

“Well, now I know why I came here,” Naomi says.

Yuuko leans forward on the boards. “For a vacation?”

“Well, yeah, but.” Naomi waggles her eyebrows. “I like to make waves, you know?”

Yuuko frowns, but then Yuuri calls out to them again.

“Yuuko, go ahead.”

“Go ahead, what?”

Yuuri fidgets in the middle of the ice. “Play the free skate song.”

Yuuko squeals in excitement and runs over to the abandoned music player as Naomi tilts her head. “Why the change of heart?”

“I just… felt like it?”

Naomi shrugs. “Not judging, just curious. What’s this one called?”

“ _Stammi Vicino,_ ” Yuuri says, as the audience screaming begins to ring out from the boombox.

“‘Stay close to me’?”

Yuuri nods, and assumes Viktor’s starting pose in the center of the ice.

The familiar music fades in, soft woodwinds and brass that always reminded Viktor of a classic Disney movie, and then Yuuri begins to move.

The baritone begins to sing, and Naomi gasps. “Oh, I _know_ these lyrics,” she breathes.

Viktor, however, can’t tear his eyes away from Yuuri as the Japanese skater almost perfectly mimics his routine, the emotions bleeding out from every gesture he makes. Whatever Viktor himself had been missing from his own Worlds performance, Yuuri has in spades. Viktor had noticed that, in his studying of Yuuri’s previous programmes, Yuuri’s interpretation of his routines always made up for any technical deficiencies that he may have displayed. Now, faced with a routine that Viktor himself had choreographed and won the World Championships with, Yuuri easily takes it to the next level.

 _God,_ but Viktor itches to join him on the ice. Yuuri deserves _so much better_.

For the first time in weeks, Viktor wants to be human again.

His musing is cut short when Yuuri falls, badly, on the quad loop. Naomi gasps again, this time in sympathy, but then Yuuri doesn’t get up.

“Yuuri?”

The music shuts off as Naomi pushes off the boards and skids to a stop next to him. “Yuuri, are you all right?”

“I don’t know why I thought…”

“Yuuri, c’mon, you can’t stay laying here.”

Naomi helps Yuuri to his feet, and Viktor is horrified to see tears running down the skater’s cheeks. It’s worse when Naomi envelops Yuuri in a tight hug and starts rubbing his back soothingly.

“Yuuri, that was so beautiful, you did so good--”

“I-- I can’t do this anymore,” Yuuri gasps, burying his face in her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Naomi says.

“N-nothing makes sense.”

“I know.”

“I hate it!” Yuuri grits out, his shoulders shaking. “I… I hate _this_ , I hate it! It feels so wrong, I _hate_ it!”

“That’s fine,” Naomi tells him softly. “I don’t blame you.” She lets him cry into her sweater for a few more minutes, and then gently tugs him back to the exit. “Come on, I think we’ve had enough ice time for the day.”

Yuuri goes, his face frighteningly blank.

-

Yuuko apologizes at least four or five times, and each one is brushed off, but she still looks incredibly guilty.

“I didn’t mean to ruin your evening,” she tells Naomi as she’s returning the rentals. Naomi shakes her head. “No, I mean it.” Yuuko insists.

“You didn’t,” Naomi answers. “I think this had to happen sooner or later.”

“But I insisted on him skating.” Yuuko looks at Yuuri, still on the benches, taking off his skates almost mechanically. “Skating Viktor’s programme, I mean.”

“I think he wanted to skate it.”

Viktor can hear them from where he sits at Yuuri’s side. He’s not sure who to be more annoyed at. He’s not even sure if he’s allowed to be annoyed, if he even has the _right_ to be annoyed.

Yuuri’s pulling on his outdoor shoes, his eyes fixed on the laces. He still hasn’t put on his glasses again, and he seems so much smaller than he really is. Viktor nudges his thigh with his nose, and the blank mask on Yuuri’s face cracks with a small smile as he strokes Viktor’s neck. “ _Good boy,_ ” he says softly, in Japanese.

Viktor pushes his face into Yuuri’s lap, and Yuuri laughs.

The women go silent by the counter, and Yuuko sighs. “Thank god for Vicchan,” she says quietly, so that Yuuri doesn’t hear. Viktor still does, though. “I don’t know how Yuuri would be coping otherwise.”

“When did Yuuri find him?” Naomi asks.

“Actually, it was right after Worlds,” Yuuko says. “We got snow, and then Vicchan showed up.”

Naomi makes an unreadable noise, but she’s all smiles when Yuuri joins her at the counter. “Do you feel better?”

Yuuri laughs, a little bitterly. “I always feel better after I cry.”

Naomi hugs him again, and Viktor has had _enough_ of her touchiness. He growls at her and pushes between them, forcing them to separate.

“Vicchan!” Yuuri exclaims, as Naomi frowns down at him. “I’m so sorry, he’s not normally like this.”

“You did say I was huggier than most of the people you knew,” Naomi said. “He’s probably not used to it.”

Viktor growls at her again, and Naomi’s eyebrows go up. “Cut it out,” she says, and this time Viktor responds by growling louder. “That’s rude, you know.”

Viktor doesn’t care. _He’s mine_. Viktor doesn’t make Yuuri sad. Viktor’s not the one who reduced him to tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Yuuri says, but Naomi brushes it off.

“It’s fine, Yuuri. Don’t worry.” She shrugs. “I’m starving, ready to head home?”

“Have a good night!” Yuuko calls as they shrug into jackets and take their leave. “Thanks for stopping by, it was nice to meet you, Naomi-chan!”

The walk back is silent to start, but then Naomi starts talking about American politics and making Yuuri laugh, and Viktor’s mood sours even more.

 _He lets her hug him, he doesn’t let just anyone hug him… is she special? Did they date in America?_ He’s genuinely distressed at the thought. _We danced together, was that not special? Did it mean nothing?_

Naomi looks down at him again, and he growls at her. “You have a serious attitude problem, buddy-boy,” she says in an amused voice, and it pisses Viktor off even more.

“I really don’t know why he keeps doing that,” Yuuri says, clearly embarrassed, and Naomi laughs.

“I do, he’s jealous.”

“He shouldn’t be,” Yuuri says.

“Well,” Naomi stops, and looks at Viktor. “He seems to think he’s got a claim to you.” She crosses her arms. “You can’t have it both ways, you know.”

Viktor stops cold. _She knows._

“What?” Yuuri asks.

“I’ve been suspecting it all day, but… Yuuri, this isn’t actually a dog.”

Viktor growls again. _Don’t!_

“What are you talking about?” Yuuri blinks in confusion.

“Vicchan here is a person that was turned into a dog,” Naomi says, gesturing at Viktor. “I’m not sure how, it’s not that common.”

“ _What?!_ ” Yuuri demands, incredulous. “A… are you messing with me?!”

“You know I’m a witch, Yuuri, I never kept it secret from you.”

“Yeah, but I thought it was just your religion--”

Naomi laughs. “I’m not religious, Yuuri. Being a witch is a way of life in my family.”

“O-okay.” Yuuri blinks. “But… what--”

“Yeah, I’m not really supposed to talk about it, but there are quite a few witches out there who do this kind of thing. I mean, animal transformations aren’t common, like I said. They’re really difficult to do properly, and it looks like Vicchan here only has part of his human mind, which makes me think whoever did it was pretty sloppy.”

Yuuri still looks to be in shock, so Viktor presses up against him. To his dismay, Yuuri backs away.

Viktor feels something like heartbreak, a piercing in his chest.

“Is… is he okay?” Yuuri asks, his eyes wide.

“He’s worried about you,” Naomi tells him.

“Wh-who is he really?”

 _Don’t tell him._ Viktor growls at Naomi, who snorts. _Don’t tell him who I am._

“I have no idea who he is, but he seems dead set on not telling anyway.” Naomi shrugs.

“Why?” Yuuri looks at Viktor, brows drawn together in confusion. “What’s wrong? Are you really okay with living like this?”

 _Yes,_ Viktor thinks. This time, when he noses at Yuuri’s hand, he’s relieved when Yuuri pets him again.

“He seems to believe so,” Naomi answers.

“But you’re human,” Yuuri says faintly. “You’re human, and I’ve been treating you like an animal for a month now--”

_I like being your dog!_

Naomi makes an amused noise. “I think he’s quite content with it.”

“But… but what about your family?” Yuuri asks, and Viktor whines. “No, really, don’t you have people you’ve left behind?”

_They all want things from me. I can’t give anymore._

“Yes, he does have family,” Naomi says, and Viktor growls at her. “Don’t give me that, you know damn well that’s what Yuuri asked.”

_He’s all I need!_

“Then you need to go back to them!” Yuuri gasps, and Viktor looks at him in horror. “You… I can’t keep you here with me if you have people looking for you!”

Naomi sighs. “He does have people looking for him.”

 _Stop!_ Viktor whirls on her and bares his teeth.

“You _do_ ,” Naomi insists. “For the love of God, I can tell that you do.”

Viktor’s heart hammers in his chest. He looks back at Yuuri, who looks distressed.

“You… you have to go back to them,” Yuuri says softly. “I… I can’t hold onto you if you have a home waiting for you.”

 _I want you to,_ Viktor pleads.

“He wants to stay,” Naomi translates, and Viktor is grateful that she’s sticking to his intended message.

“But you _do_ have people waiting for you, people who care about the real you?” Yuuri presses, because of course he knows. _Of course_ he can tell.

Viktor can’t look him in the eye.

“He seems to think that no-one cares about the real him,” Naomi answers for him, and Viktor can’t even work up the energy to be angry with her.

“I… I’ll care,” Yuuri says.

Viktor looks up at him, a little surprised.

“I’ll care about the real you. I promise.” Yuuri presses a hand to his chest, and his eyes are shining with unshed tears, but he gulps down a breath and continues. “I… I know life can be really hard and that it’s tempting to run away from it all, but nothing good ever came from me doing that. You deserve good things.”

 _You’re a good thing,_ Viktor thinks longingly.

“He says you’re the good thing,” Naomi says.

A tear runs down Yuuri’s cheek. “I… thanks.” He wipes his face, blushing. “I’m glad I… was able to help you. You deserve to be happy.”

 _You make me happy_ , Viktor insists.

“You can always come back here, you know,” Naomi points out. “It’s not like Yuuri’s banning you from Hasetsu.”

And suddenly Viktor can see it all: himself on the ice with Yuuri, taking him through a brand-new routine that would bring him to the Grand Prix Finale before soaking with him in the hot springs. Maybe Yuuri could be the one to love Viktor for Viktor. God knows that Viktor’s grown to love Yuuri.

“He wants to know if you’d still love him as his true self,” Naomi tells Yuuri.

“I could try,” Yuuri says shyly. “I… I don’t do well with people.”

“I think you’ll be all right,” Naomi laughs. “God, Yuuri, you need to have more faith in yourself.”

Yuuri blushes, and Viktor nudges his cheek with his nose. “I guess I’m doing _something_ right,” he says, and Viktor silently agrees.

“So you want it undone?” Naomi asks, and Viktor looks at her.

There’s going to be hell to pay, if Viktor turns back. He’s going to have to deal with the fallout of his disappearance. But…

Well, he can’t deny that he’s missed his darling Makkachin. And maybe it will be worthwhile, if he can find his way back to Yuuri.

 _Do it,_ he thinks, and Naomi makes an interested noise.

“He’s down for it,” she says, and Yuuri looks up at her. “Are you gonna be okay? How will you explain the missing poodle?”

“I… I guess I can say he ran away from me,” Yuuri says slowly. He puts his arms around Viktor’s neck and takes a deep breath. “You… really helped me, over the past few weeks. Thank you for being there. I’ll miss you.”

Viktor sighs. _I’ll miss you too._

Yuuri stands and glances at Naomi, who’s looking down at Viktor with a considering expression. “Can you just do it like--” he waves his hands vaguely “--like that?”

Viktor looks at Naomi, who smiles back at him. “I mean, it’s mostly up to Vicchan here,” she says.

Viktor thinks back to the night he “disappeared.” Had it really been so simple?

_Think about what you want most in the world, and then ask for it._

Sure, being a dog was the easiest thing in the world. But…

But what he’d wanted all along was to be loved. Surely he could have that as a human?

He looks at Yuuri, whose eyes are like amber in the setting sun’s light, and he believes it.

_I want--_

And that’s all he gets out before his vision whites out and the world vanishes around him.

-

Viktor stumbles out of an alleyway, blinking at the late morning light. _What in the--_

He looks down at his hands, _his hands_ , and his clothes better suited to early spring than the current warm spell that seems to be sweeping… wherever he is.

It’s not Japan, or at least it’s not the town he had spent the past month in. Or had he? _Had it all been just a dream?_

He reaches into his coat pocket, and there it is. The coin sits in his palm, bright as the sun in the sky above.

 _It was real_. He knows it in his heart.

He glances around, and catches sight of a discarded newspaper on the ground. The writing is in Russian. _I must be home again._

He keeps walking, and finally spots a familiar street. Yes, he’s in Saint Petersburg again. And he knows exactly where he is.

And exactly where he needs to go.

He takes off into a run, brushing past surprised pedestrians on the sidewalk.

-

He bursts into the building that houses his home rink, and a hush falls over the people in the lobby. He decides to deal with it later, shoving past everyone and ducking down the hallway that leads to the rink and the offices just off of it.

Yakov’s door is closed, which means the man himself is just beyond it. He pounds on the door until Yakov throws it open in irritation.

Annoyance gives way to shock, and then Viktor finds himself being enveloped in a massive hug that he wouldn’t have seen coming in a million years.

“I’m not hallucinating, am I?” Yakov mumbles. “Good God, Vitya, are you really here?!”

“I’m here,” Viktor answers, still surprised. “I’m really here.”

“Where have you _been?!_ ” Yakov demands, pulling away and holding Viktor at arm’s length. He shakes Viktor a little, rattling his shoulders. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?! The whole country’s been tearing itself apart trying to find you!”

Viktor takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry for making you worry.” He hangs his head. “I had to take some time off, and one thing led to another, and I lost contact with everything.”

“ _How?!_ ” Yakov is already sounding like the angry, shouty man he remembers. “Vitya, literally everyone has a phone nowadays, you couldn’t have given me a call to tell me where you were?!”

“I… I wanted to disappear, Yakov.”

His coach goes silent at that. “You what?”

Viktor swallows. “I’m sorry. I wanted to vanish, to be alone. I didn’t think about how much trouble it would cause.”

Yakov searches his face, forehead furrowed in confusion and concern. “Vitya, what happened to you?”

“A lot,” Viktor admits. “And I’m not sure how much I want to really talk about. But I do know that I need to take the year off from skating.”

Yakov’s jaw drops. “You _what_?!”

“I have something that I need to do,” Viktor adds quickly. “Something that I have to do sooner rather than later.”

“Vitya--”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have that much time.” Viktor gently removes his coach’s hands from his arms. “Where’s Makkachin?”

“Sh-she’s at my apartment--”

“Thank you for taking care of her,” Viktor says, smiling. “I don’t think I’ve ever really thanked you for all you’ve ever done for me.” He ducks out of the office, and nearly runs into Yuri Plisetsky.

“Viktor--”

“Not now, Yura.” Viktor brushes past the teenage skater.

“Wait! Viktor! You _owe_ me--”

He’s cut off as Viktor races back through the doors towards the lobby. His keys are miraculously still in his coat pocket, as is his wallet. He’s only a little winded when he reaches his apartment twenty minutes later, after stomping up the stairs and unlocking his door for the first time in over a month.

Viktor looks around at his empty apartment, and it feels wrong without the sound of Makkachin’s nails clicking on the hardwood as she ran to pounce on him in greeting.

Soon. He’d be reunited with her again soon. He locks up behind himself and quickly begins to strip off his old clothes. He throws everything into the hamper and plugs in his phone, which has long since died, before jumping into the shower.

As soon as he’s clean and mostly dried off, he checks his now partially-charged phone. The amount of missed notifications makes him wince hard enough to strain something. He can’t do anything about that, though; he gets onto his laptop and starts working.

He’s got a plane ticket almost booked, and is making arrangements for his things to be transported over via air-and-ground shipping overnight, when someone pounds on his door.

Viktor throws it open and is sent flying when Makkachin leaps at him, barking excitedly. “Ah! Makka, my darling!” He laughs as she licks him all over his face, and then gently pushes her off of him so he can get back up to his feet. “Ah, Yakov! Thank you for bringing her back!”

“Vitya, what the hell is going on?!” Yakov demands.

“I’m going to Japan, Yakov.” Viktor spreads his hands and leans back on his heels. “I’m going to do something different, something for myself.”

Yakov’s eyes narrow. “Why Japan? Is it because of that Katsuki boy skating your routine?”

Viktor blinks. “You saw that?”

“The entire internet saw, the video went viral. Isn’t that how you saw it?”

Viktor smiles. “Sort of. And yes, I’m going to help Katsuki.”

“You’d throw away this season, possibly the rest of your career, for a sixth-place skater in a little nowhere town in Japan?” Yakov asks incredulously.

“No, I’d throw away this season, possibly the rest of my career, for this year’s Grand Prix Final gold medalist.” Viktor snaps his fingers. “Ah, that’s right, I should bring my old costumes!”

“Vitya--”

“Yakov, I know you’re going to try and talk me out of it, so I’ll save you the wasted breath. I’m going, I’ve decided.” Viktor winks. “And you know how I get.”

A vein pops in Yakov’s forehead. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Nope! I’ve found it!” Viktor ushers Yakov back out into the hallway, trying to be both friendly and brisk. “I’m sure Yura needs your guidance! Don’t worry about me! I’ll call you once I’ve landed!”

“Vitya--!”

Viktor shuts the door on him and then turns to Makkachin, who’s watching him with her tail wagging excitedly. “How about it, darling? Do you want to go to Japan with me?”

Makkachin barks excitedly, and Viktor can’t help but hug her to his chest.

“Oh, you’re going to _love_ Yuuri! His whole family loves dogs, they’ll spoil you rotten!”

And he rushes back into packing, bundling Makkachin into a traveling carrier and securing transportation to the airport. As he leaves, he doesn’t notice that he’s left the coin he’d pulled from his pocket on his nightstand, glinting in the afternoon sunlight.

But really, that doesn’t matter. He won’t need it anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't know if I was able to make it clear, but remember that classmate Yuuri told Viktor about at the beach, who tried to comfort him? That's where I got the character of Naomi from.
> 
> I feel like angst/depression fic is starting to take over my oeuvre. I should work on changing that...
> 
> As you guys may know from the previous fics in this series, I'm a huge supporter of mental health care and seeking help if you notice you're feeling very similar to the emotions described in the fic. This hasn't changed at all: please, if this fic made you realize something's off for you, know that I support you getting help and feeling better. You do _not_ need to live with it, no matter how insignificant it feels. Life is not meant to be spent in misery, even if you feel like you have no reason to be sad.
> 
> And, very importantly: no one has the right to tell you how you should be feeling. It doesn't matter if they're your friend or family member; they're not inside your head, they have no idea. Help is out there, and there are so many people that want to give it to you. Please, reach out. We want you to stay with us.
> 
> In fic/writing news, I've got an actual queue of stories to write (as in I sat down and wrote out an entire list. Holy cow. My brain keeps spitting out ideas) and the next thing in line is another gift fic that I've already got mostly written, so that will be out soon! Then it's BBOI, a zine piece, and the fifth chapter of _Saltwater Melodies_! (Speaking of which, if you'd like something of a palette cleanser, feel free to check it out! It's mostly urban fantasy fluff and humor!)
> 
> Also, because my friends are awesome and enablers, I have yet another fic planned for this series before I wrap it up with the alternate endings. This one will focus on Yurio, and I promise it will be almost entirely humor.
> 
> I'm so excited for the upcoming pieces, and for the new year! I'm also incredibly grateful for all the friends I've made in this fandom, here's to you guys and our lovely ice skating boyfriends for making 2017 an amazing year for me.
> 
> Please feel free to come and find me on [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/Linneakou) and [Tumblr](http://linneakou.tumblr.com), I love talking to people about YOI!


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